Surprise Visit
by northernspy1
Summary: It was just a normal day for him. How did it ever manage to go so wrong? And how is he going to fix it? Rated T for violence. Please R&R!
1. Part I

Disclaimer: Don't own

The loud buzzing was like a chainsaw hacking away at his skull. He reached over and groggily looked at the message:_ "Body found in Central Park. Come ASAP. Mac." _ Putting the phone down, he glanced at the clock. 3:45 am. This was one of the worst parts of the job, and one of the reasons why he preferred being a lab tech than an actual cop. These calls came less often than they did for the other CSIs.

Adam hauled himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Splashing cold water against his face to wake himself up, he gazed down at his hand. The burn scars were still clear, a painful reminder of that fateful day. "_Boy, did I ever screw up_," He thought. Stella had told him it wasn't his fault, and he believed her. But that wasn't why he still felt like a failure. He reached down and pulled up the leg of his boxer shorts. About three inches above his left knee, six marks identical to the ones on his hand were visible; another reminder. His face darkened as he flashed back to his childhood. "_Thanks a lot Dad. You really knew how to make a lasting impression on a kid,"_ he thought bitterly as he walked out of the room to get dressed.

Cherry red and blue lights flashed behind him as he stepped under the crime scene tape. Jo and Mac were crouched over the body of a young blond woman. Danny and Flack stood nearby, watching. A few feet away from the body, Lindsey stood by a tree, looking for clues on the ground. Everything looked normal, but inside, he felt like throwing up. Normally he was annoyed that everyone ignored him, but now it was more of a relief. At least nobody would talk to him.

Suddenly, Jo noticed he was there. "_Crap,_" he thought. Busted. She came over to him, a concerned look on her face.

"Adam, what's wrong?'' she asked. Adam stared at the ground, not wanting to look at her. He hated when Jo asked him questions, mostly because she was so damn _good_ at it. And it always ended with him feeling like a complete idiot. Slowly he shook his head.

"N-nothing. I'm fine." He silently cursed himself. _Why_ did he have to stammer so much? It made the whole concept of hiding his feelings rather pointless if he tripped over every word. Luckily, Jo didn't pursue the matter further, not out of respect for his privacy, but because Flack had interrupted with the woman's wallet.

"Vic's name is Camille Demarche, an exchange student from France. Twenty-three years old, went to NYU to study architecture. Lived on campus, she was last seen at a bar with some friends on Friday night. Her friends said she left early, around 8:30, and hadn't been heard from since."

Adam was silent, lost in his thoughts, so naturally Flack hardly looked at him. As the crew loaded the body into the van, Adam wandered away from the scene. Too many people made him uncomfortable, and there were a lot of people here. The air felt much better away from all the chaos. Suddenly, Mac came up behind him and touched his shoulder, causing him to jump a mile in the air. "Come on Adam, let's get to the lab. The sooner we find Camille's killer, the better." And with that, he led Adam back into the crowd.

* * *

Back at the crime lab, Adam sat in his desk chair, thinking. This was his spot, his paradise. Suddenly the phone rang, jerking him back to reality. "_Who's calling at 4:30 in the morning?_" He wondered as he picked up. "Adam Ross," he answered.

"Adam? It's your dad. Is that really you?" Adam's blood froze. He slammed the phone down and tried to slow his heart. The phone rang again. He picked up without thinking, immediately wishing he hadn't.

"Adam?" his father asked, "I think we may have bad connec—"

"What do you want?" Adam interrupted, breathless. He hadn't spoken to his dad in almost ten years. What on Earth was going on?

"Adam, you're never going to believe where I am," His dad said, somewhat excitedly, and without waiting for an answer, continued, "_New York!_" Adam's heart pounded and he hung up again. He sat back hard in his chair, his mind racing. This was very, very bad.

Later that day, Adam decided to do some research on evidence he had found at the scene, so he went to the New York Public Library. It was quiet there, and since Danny had been on his case all day, he could use quiet more than anything. But as he left the office building, he heard his name called. Slowly, he turned around and saw his father hurrying toward him. Frozen to the spot, he stood helpless as his dad threw his arms around him, as if they were old friends.

"Adam! It's you! It really is. Look how grown up you are son." His dad said. Adam's skin crawled at his happy-to-see-you attitude. He tried to get away, but his dad only held him tighter. "Come on son, let's go get a drink and catch up," he said as he dragged Adam to a silver car waiting at the curb.

As they drove along, Adam stared out the window. How had this happened? One minute he was having a normal day, the next his worst nightmare had turned up. If this was karma what evil deed could he possibly have done to deserve such a curse? The whole time he was thinking these thoughts his dad was going on and on about how he never called, how he was so lonely without his son there, what had he done to his hand, when finally Adam said "What the hell do you want Dad?"

His dad jerked the car over to the curb and grabbed Adam toward him. "What did you just say to me?" he growled. Adam didn't answer, staring defiantly… at the floor. Suddenly, his father raised his hand and slapped him across the face. "You will speak to me with respect kid, or you're gonna get a lot worse than that!" he screamed. Adam winced but didn't answer. His father raised his hand again, but hesitated. Lowering his hand, he glared at his son, then sat back and glared some more. Adam took the moment of distraction as an opportunity to unbuckle his seat belt quietly. His father looked out the window at a sports car passing, and Adam took the opportunity to bolt out of the car.

Then he ran. He ran and he didn't stop. He ran all the way back to his apartment, the only safe place he could think of.


	2. Part II

The next evening, Adam was sitting at home in his kitchen, trying to make sense of the events of the previous day. All of a sudden, he felt as though someone was watching him. He turned around and saw none other than his father standing in the room. His heart sped up as he frantically tried to think of a way out. He stood up and faced his father, who may as well have been shooting laser beams out of his eyeballs.

Adam opened his mouth to say something, but his dad was quicker. In three steps he had crossed the room and the back of his hand connected sharply with Adam's jaw, sending him crashing to the floor. Before he could clear his head, his dad had him by the collar, holding him in an upright position. His eyes were menacing and he reeked of all sorts of alcohol.

Grinning maliciously, his father pulled out a sleek black lighter. "Remember when you was a kid?" he snarled, "You was my favorite ashtray back then." He flicked the lighter on and shoved it up against Adam's neck. Adam tried to let out a scream, but his father had shoved him against the wall and had one massive hand over his mouth. His eyes were pure evil, black as night. He shoved the lighter back up. Adam kicked him in the leg as hard as he could. His dad dropped the lighter, but swung Adam around, releasing him and causing him to crack his head on the edge of the counter as he fell down. Warm, wet blood pooled around his head. As his vision slowly blacked around him, he could just barely feel his dad beating him all over, fists flying. But he didn't care then. He simply let the warm comforts of unconsciousness sweep over him.

* * *

Adam woke up much later feeling like death. The blood that had been coming from his skull had dried and congealed in his hair, and he had dark red bruises all over his body. Slowly, he staggered up and limped to the phone. He felt weak, confused. Who should he call? Someone who would be willing to help, but wouldn't ask too many questions. Quickly, he dialed Hawkes' cell phone number. It rang six times before Sheldon picked up.

"Hawkes, I need you to come over and help me, no questions asked, and you can't tell anybody, ok?" Adam spilled out in one breath. Fifteen minutes later, Adam was lying on his bed with a bandage wrapped around his head as Hawkes tended to the burns on his neck. He told the doctor about the attack, but not about his visit yesterday. Hawkes listened silently, his face hard. When Adam was finished, he closed his eyes and let Hawkes proceed with his care.

A few minutes later, Adam was treated and bandaged with the somewhat obvious advice to call in sick tomorrow. Before Hawkes left, Adam made him swear again not to tell Mac what happened. Hawkes reluctantly agreed, and left. Adam lay his head on his pillow and promptly fell asleep.

The next day, Adam woke up just long enough to call in sick. Mac sounded a bit suspicious on the phone, but agreed and told him to feel better. After hanging up, he went back to sleep. A few hours later, he was awoken by a knock on the door. Fearing the return of his father, Adam looked through the peephole before letting out a sigh of relief. He opened the door and Danny walked in, staring at him in shock.

"Adam… What happened to you, did you get hit by a train?" Danny asked, gaping at him. Adam took his coat and they sat down on the couch. Then the questions spilled out like a dam breaking. "What happened are you ok who did this to you or what did this to you I thought you said you were sick well I suppose this is kind of sick but really I mean wow what happened?" It all came out in one breath. Adam was impressed. Danny didn't usually show this much concern for his well-being. But he didn't want to make this into a big deal, so he told Danny a story about getting mugged on his way home last night. Danny didn't seem to buy the story at first, but since there was little other explanation for his injuries, he conceded that Adam wasn't lying.

They sat in silence for a while. Then Danny said he had to go, Mac was waiting for him to interview a suspect in the murder case. Adam handed him his coat and waved him out the door. After he was gone, Adam went back to the couch and, from between the cushions, pulled out the gun he had swiped when Danny wasn't looking. _"This time, I'll be ready,_" he thought as he stared at the piece in his hand.

Adam slept for most of that day and the next day, which he also had off. The bruises were disappearing, but he had the bandage on for another day. He wasn't going back until that was gone. At about 7:30 that night, Adam was sleeping on the couch when a sudden noise woke him up. He looked around the room, but saw nothing. He fell back against the pillow and then saw his father standing over him, his eyes shining in the darkness.

Adam rolled off the couch and into a standing position. Where had he left Danny's gun? _He had left it on the kitchen table_. His father darted towards him, but the adrenaline pumping through Adam's body helped him escape capture. He lunged past his father, but felt his leg being grabbed. Desperately, he kicked as hard as he could. His dad dug his sharp nails into his leg, but Adam shook him off and bolted into the kitchen. He grabbed the gun and pointed it at his father, causing him to freeze in his tracks.

"Ok Adam, let's not get hasty. We can talk this out," his father slurred drunkenly. Adam stared at him, wide eyed, but didn't back down. It was time for him to stop. He waved the gun, indicating for his dad to get on his knees.

"G-go away," he stammered. "Go away and never come back." His father slowly nodded, stood up, and ran out the door. Adam slammed the door and locked it. Then he looked down at the gun in his hand. "_Danny must be freaking out about this,_" he thought worriedly. Then he smiled. That was a problem that could wait until tomorrow.


End file.
